Other Champion
by CountessCzan
Summary: With news from her future self of events that will kill them all, it's up to our resident Gryffindor bookworm to set things in motion and save people, albeit secretly. Armed with knowledge of spell, curses, enchantments and the facts and truths about future, Hermione is suddenly.. chosen as the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion? AU/AR! Spoilers 4-7. HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER : **Harry Potter is and always will be Miss JK Rowling's property. Not mine. This is merely a fanfiction.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : **Hello folks! This is my first time making a many-chaptered fanfic. Hopefully, I'll be able to finish this because I dearly, dearly like this idea. It's been plaguing me for _months_ and it won't just stop. So, this fic starts at the end of Harry Potter's third year. Hermione will be my protagonist, yeah. The pairings aren't decided yet, but I'm thinking that it's either Draco or Cedric. No Ron, no Harry. Sorry.

**TITLE : **Other Champion

**PAIRINGS : **Hermione / ?

**GENRE : **Adventure, Romance, Mystery(?)

**SUMMARY : **Just before their third year at Hogwarts ends, Hermione Granger receives a message from her future self. Four years later - although only a day has passed - Hermione emerges from her training given by her future self - who warned her that their future is doomed. Armed with knowledge of spells, curses, wards and the facts and truths about the upcoming war, it's up to Hermione to literally change the course of events. Add to that, though, was that.. Cedric Diggory isn't Hogwarts Champion? Why did Dumbledore allowed students not of age to put their names in the Goblet of Fire? And why was _her_ name being called as one of the Triwizard Champions? Powerful!Hermione. AU, starting Fourth Year up to the last book.

**WARNING/S :** Spoilers for the books! :) Oh, the Battle of Hogwarts didn't end with Voldemort dying - instead he escaped and the war continued for one and a half year.

* * *

Fourteen-year-old Hermione Jean Granger sighed as she closed the last book she managed to grab before Madam Pince came breathing down her neck. Honestly, it was useless. She felt absolutely dreadful about the upcoming trial of Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff. Deep in her gut, she knew that the case was doomed because, _well_, it would be easy to spot who will win or not. 'Innocent' student harmed by a careless teacher, the Ministry would view it as that. Not that Hagrid was careless, though, but Hermione couldn't argue the fact that what Hagrid sometimes teach them were quite dangerous. Still, that did not shake her determination to at least support Hagrid. Augh, stupid Malfoy and his blasted father.

Just as she was about to return the book on their proper places, a piece of paper slipped out from one of the books. Curious, Hermione bent down to pick it up but was royally surprised when the note itself rose.

Thinking that it was levitated by someone nearby, Hermione spun around and peered at the whole library. Growing more confused at seeing none other than Madam Pince, since it was already nearing curfew, she then turned towards the note and examined it. She noticed some writings on it and as if on cue, it glowed.

_Who was your first muggle teacher? _The question was written there. Hermione wondered if it was meant for somebody else, but seeing as she was alone, she decided that it must solely be for her.

"Miss I-Irene Mont," she hesitantly whispered. The note shivered up before transforming into a scroll of paper, which she warily took and opened.

_Mercury,_

_Follow the Grey Lady. One week, no less and no more. Seek and you shall find._

The note ended there. Follow the Grey Lady, One week - no less and no more. What did that mean? Seek and you shall find. Hermione dubiously looked down at the note before casting an '_Incendio_' on it.

_Mercury._ The note had said Mercury. That means it was for her. And, _from her._ Mercury - one of the elements from the muggle Periodic Table of Elements. It is written as Hg, which, coincidentally, are her initials. HG. Mercury was a code she created for herself at the start of third year, in case her future self wanted to communicate with herself. It completely surprised her. Mercury.. she pondered and pondered what could her future self possibly want with her.

_Hm, better get back to the Common Room. Curfew's gonna start in a few minutes. I'll just ask for this.. Grey Lady tomorrow. _she thought, shrugging. Tucking her bag underneath her arms, she made her way towards the Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

_Three days later_

"Sir Nicholas, good afternoon. May I ask you something?" Hermione asked the passing ghost in the Common Room. Both Harry and Ron looked up from their Wizard Chess and looked curiously at her. Sir Nicholas, the resident Gryffindor Ghost, however, looked pleased.

"Ah, Miss Granger! No problem, no problem. What is it, dear?" Sir Nick asked a bit pompously.

"Err, I was wondering if you could lead me to the Grey Lady. I know she's the Ravenclaw Ghost, but I don't know who.. It's alright if you had any matters to do, I'd just ask someone else," she added a bit hastily. Sir Nick chuckled.

"Oh, dear, I was wondering when you might ask me that.. Do you want to do it right now?"

Hermione nibbled on her lip. _One week, no less and no more._ Should she contact the Grey Lady now or later on?

"Not yet, Sir Nicholas," Hermione replied. "After four days. Is that alright?"

"Of course it is, for a fellow Gryffindor."

* * *

_Four days later, meaning one week since the note_

"Ah, yes, Hermione Jean Granger, isn't it?"

"Yes, milady." Hermione answered, feeling nervous. The Grey Lady, which she learned from some of the portraits as Helena Ravenclaw, hovered before her. Most Ravenclaws she asked described her as helpful but always sad, reasons unknown. But now.. why does it seem.. excited?

"You have a lot to learn, young student. Follow me," Helena said. She drifted away, and Hermione followed. Up and pass the moving staircases, up until they reach the seventh floor. Hermione dearly wanted to ask _why_ Helena/The Grey Lady was leading her here.

Then, the Grey Lady stopped floating before the wall facing the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

Curious, Hermione turned to ask the Grey Lady what they were doing here. However, there was a smile tugging on the ghost's face and it shocked Hermione.

"Remember what I said clearly, Miss Granger. Walk three times in front of this wall, all the time thinking this phrase thrice : I need the place to find myself."

Feeling clueless, Hermione couldn't do anything more than nod. The Grey Lady then drifted away. Hermione started pacing in front of the wall, thinking.

_I need the place to find myself. I need the place to find myself. I need the place to find myself._

To her amazement, a door was now in front of her. Heart pounding loudly, she twister the knob and opened the door.

She gasped. It was the exact replica of the Gryffindor Common Room, minus the students. Hermione slowly entered the room, curious at how it worked. She inspected the room obsessively. Every tile, every scratch. Exactly like her Common room. _Does this room copy Hogwarts' Common Rooms? _Dazedly, she plopped down on her favorite squishy chair by the fire. Even it's squishyness was replicated!

"I see you've made yourself at home."

Hermione froze and immediately twisted around to see the owner of the voice. Her jaw fell when she saw who it was.

It was herself.

However, it wasn't _exactly_ like her. Gaping, she took in the view as what she reckon as an older Hermione stood before her. She looked like her, yet she doesn't. Her hair was still bushy, although it was slightly tamed and it was, in a word, pretty. Gone was the large front teeth, yet there were still some freckles adorning her button nose. She had a petite body, with curves at the right places. Older Hermione looked.. beautiful. And yet.. she noticed something besides those. Upon closer inspection, she saw scars. Not just little scars but _heavy _scars. It looked almost.. like battle scars. Hermione blanched when her eyes fell to her other self's arm, where she could see the faint trace of a scar which read _Mudblood._

Older Hermione grinned as she saw her looking at the scar. "Yes, rather crude, isn't it?"

"But.. what.. h-how? Why?"

Older Hermione held out her arm for her to see. "It was my second scar to earn. Personally, it was the most horrible back then for me, but after I killed Bellatrix - the one who did this for me - I started wearing it proudly. It was like a token you see. I ceased being ashamed by it."

Hermione's mind reeled by what she said. Scars? Bellatrix? Killed?

"What, are you in some kind of war or something?" she blurted out.

"Sadly, yes, we're in a war."

"How old are you?"

"It says on my birth certificate that I'm 20, but in a way, I'm 21."

Hermione frowned. That was way too young for a warrior.. and to have many scars..

"How many years have you been in war?"

"Two and a half."

"That means you've been fighting when you were 17 or 18?" Hermione asked incredulously. _Is she really from the future or from another universe? _

"Yes."

"If you're on a war, why did you came here?"

Older Hermione seemed pensive for a moment, sighed, then answered. "I really hoped it wouldn't come to this. It was only a contingency plan. I'm here to train you. How to fight, defend, win. Everything I know, in hopes that our future will change. It's a really big risk. I even had to recreate the Room of Requirement. Stupid Fiendfyre."

Hermione was royally shocked when she heard this. After a minute of processing, she asked. "What's fiendfyre?"

Older Hermione grimaced. "Cursed fire. It takes a lot of power to control it. It's going to be one of the curses I'll teach you."

"Excuse me?" Hermione choked out. "You're gonna teach me _cursed fire_?"

"Oh, don't worry," Older Hermione said offhandedly. "It will be easy for you. Fires are our specialty, if you must know."

"If you say so. What can I call you, by the way?"

"Maybe.. hm. Jean, as it is our middle name." Older Hermione, or Jean, sat down beside her. "Don't worry about the time, okay? I've recreated this version of the Room of Requirement. The Room of Requirement is exactly as it is called - whatever you require, it gives." Jean explained, seeing her befuddled look. "I've made it so to be suspended between time and space. It's quite tricky, though. But what matters is that I did it and you're here.

Hermione's jaw slackened. _Time and space?_

"That's.. that's too much.. for words."

Jean smirked. "I won't be teaching you that so don't worry. Just basics - spells, enchantments, wards, curses.. I'm definitely sure you can manage it," Jean assured her. She gulped nervously.

Jean smiled. "I'll enlighten you to what will happen. It all started during the First Wizarding War, when Professor Albus Dumbledore was interviewing a Seer.."

* * *

Hermione stared.

"So, Lord V-Voldemort is immortal in your world?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Jean sighed. "We thought that the Battle at Hogwarts would be the last - but we thought wrong. We retreated immediately as possible, reinforced Hogwarts' wards and made it our headquarters. For two years, we've been looking for ways on how to kill Riddle but we always fail. That's why I need to train you; to prevent him from becoming immortal. If you can prevent deaths and losses along the way, all the more better."

"And what do I do afterwards?"

"Help Harry destroy him. He is destined, of course, as the Chosen One."

"Chosen..? Oh, the Prophecy."

"Indeed." Jean seemed crestfallen for a minute.

"I still can't believe that Trelawney isn't really a fraud," Hermione said, grinning. Jean grinned back.

"So, ready to start your training, mini me?" Jean asked her. Hermione, grin growing wider, replied.

"You bet."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : **Yeah, start. If someone does read this, can you please review? I'd like some insights _ Thank you, thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER : **Harry Potter is and always will be Miss JK Rowling's Property. Not mine.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : **Hello! Thought I'd post the second chapter so that people who stumble upon this story will get the hang of it :) Err, yeah. I profusely thank whoever will read and review this. Love lots! :)

* * *

"Hermione, make your senses sharp! Run, roll over, do a back-flip - just don't let a curse hurt you!"

It was the last day of school, third year, and already was Jean teaching her defences. The Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady, approached her secretly and informed her that Jean was already waiting for her. Hermione was still worried over Harry's wellbeing because of the incident going to happen on the Quidditch World Cup, so Jean assured her first. She had also filled her about what happened- or going to happen- in their next year, and Hermione felt sick at the news. The year was the year of opening the doors - Voldemort returning.. Cedric Diggory ; dead.

It was still the last day of school but Hermione had already spent one and a half month in the altered ROR. The food that they eat was provided by Tippy, Jean's personal elf. Hermione once voiced her strong opinion of creating SPEW - which earned a reprimand from Jean.

"House Elves, it is in their nature to love being able to serve. You have heard Dobby's reaction - - but that doesn't speak for all the House Elves. Creating that damned society almost killed me and my friends. Indirectly, but still the reason why."

She proceeded to tell her how SPEW had been the cause of one elf's betrayal, of some elves' distrust for her.. And ingrained into Hermione's mind to appreciate House Elves and to never offend them. As well as goblins, centaurs, mermaids... and other magical creatures.

Currently, she was training for Defence. The aim for practicing was this : avoid spells and curses by sensing them first. Jean blindfolded her eyes and made her run around the uneven room, all the while avoiding curses by using her other senses, not only her sense of sight. Hermione had been successfully avoiding the spells for fifteen minutes since she was hit by a stinging hex - she wasn't keen on getting hit by another one. She stopped running for a minute, panted, then felt a strange yet familiar buzzing approaching her from her right side, yet it seemed faint, like.. lower? Instinctively, she jumped and she felt the spell whizz pass under her. Sighing, she cautiously started to twirl around the room, dodging incoming spells. She managed to last for six minutes before Jean called for a time-out.

"Alright, take your blindfold off!"

Fumbling, she took off the offending cloth and stared into Jean's bright brown eyes. She plopped down on the floor, very much exhausted, and wished that she would be allowed to sleep.

"How much longer would I stay here, Jean?"

Jean pondered for a moment then answered, "Perhaps a year or two. I'm sorry, Hermione, but I cannot stress the severity of situation that you need to understand. We are only scratching the surface of what you need to know."

Hermione nodded, slumping in defeat.

"Alright, how about a hot shower and some butterbeer and apple pie?"

"Sounds great, but I'll have to refuse to that hot shower. I might get drowsy. Do we still have those Reinvigorating Potion I brewed last Thursday?"

"Of course, in the stockroom."

"Tippy? Can you get that?" Hermione reluctantly asked. A resounding pop, and Tippy arrived levitating two ice-cold butterbeers and plates of apple pies.

"Of course, my missus."

Hermione sighed as Jean grinned. "Still can't move accept the fact of having a house-elf?"

"Obviously. But I'm coping."

"Well, at least you weren't worse than I originally was. Tippy almost committed suicide when I flat-out refused her." she grimaced before she took a swig out of her butterbeer. Hermione took a bite out of her apple pie. It tasted like heaven.

"Oh, by the way. Do you know Luna Lovegood?"

"Lovegood? Actually sounds familiar, but can't exactly place it.."

Jean smiled fondly, which confused her. "Befriend Luna at all cost. You may not like her views at first, but please, be openminded. She is your intellectual equal - she's actually sharper than me at times. Don't mind her notion of believing in mythical creatures; think of it as when you were younger, you used to believe in those too."

"Who exactly is Luna Lovegood in your time?" Hermione asked, curiously. Jean sighed and smiled a little lopsidedly.

"Luna Lovegood was - and is - my best friend and sister, besides Harry and Ron of course. We were rocky at the start. I met her on our fifth year, in the train ride. I was pretty shrewd at her views and I openly voiced my debates on her, but sooner or later she became by best friend. You may think Ginny Weasley is your girl best friend, but she will be more of a very close, very trusted friend to you. She's actually joined to the hip with Susan Bones. Luna is a little weird, but trust me, she's adept at Potions and excels in Healing. She also watches and sees what people most miss, so she knows about a person's personality. Mind you, she's not really popular. Loony Lovegood, they call her, but she's not really loony. She's also a victim of bullying, so I think you can relate to her. I'm just asking you to be friends with her because.. I guess you can cope with things better."

Jean had a wistful look on her face before she continued.

"She's actually diagnosed with some sort of curse that Antonin Dolohov," she spat out the name, venom in her voice "had hit her. She's in a magical state hovering between consciousness and loss of awareness, so it's like she's in a coma. We still haven't done anything and she's still, still.." Jean broke off, her eyes suspiciously glassy.

"I'm sorry." she stated quietly.

"I just.. miss my sister."

Hermione thought for a moment. An idea formed in her head. "How about asking Luna Lovegood to train with me?"

Jean seemed shocked for a split second, but resolutely nodded her head. "Too much risk, Hermione. I designed this room for only the both of us.." she said, a little sadly. "But," she added, "After your training with me, you will, in turn, train her along with Ginny and Susan Bones. Susan may be wary at first but eventually, she'll do good. Unfortunately, you have to minimize and manage your time to practice, because the room won't be working as this now. No more infinite time and space."

"Oh.. well, okay. If you say so. What about Harry and Ron?"

"No. Harry, he will be facing too much stuff this incoming year and knowing Ron, he can't handle it. I'm sorry, knowing you have a slight crush on him and all, but you're better off without him, Hermione."

She blushed, knowing that Jean was right. Jean probably had a crush on Ron when she was her age, and apparently, regretted it dearly. She trusted Jean so whatever crush she had on Ron, she was hoping that it would soon be squashed down.

"Oh, on the Yule Ball matters. Just remember, don't let his accusations get to you. And please, say no to Viktor Krum if he asks you to go to the Ball with him.

Puzzled, she asked. "Why would I turn someone like Viktor Krum down?"

Jean smiled. "Trust me on this."

* * *

"_Legilimens_!"

Immediately, Hermione imagined the beach, with blue, magnificent waves roaring as it met the white sand on the edge of it. Confident that her barrier was holding, she slipped inside those loud waves and mentally recited the Runic Alphabet. She could feel a hard probing in her mind but she held on to that picture. By her third counting of the Runic Numbers, she felt Jean's magic withdrew from her mind. She opened her eyes.

"Impressive as always, Hermione. You can now officially block the Dark Lord from your mind. Did you really count the Runic Alphabet? I can't hear any sign of it."

Jean had taught her this. Occlumency, the art of blocking someone's intention of mind reading. It was one of the hardest that she was taught, yet it was also one that she was best at. For four years, she had been training with Jean. Nonstop. Occlumency was just one of the few many - Hermione was taught to brew the most difficult potions, to identify dangerous and useful plants, to use spells and curses at nonstop speed. Physical training and self-defence. Even the difficult Runic spells, Arithmancer's curses. Wards and alarms. Healer's spells and enchantments. Occlumency, Jean's improved and altered spells that were more dangerous than the Dark Arts. Jean had told her that there were really no such thing as Dark Arts. Magic was a tool, albeit a sentient one. If she accioed a sword and used it to kill someone, does that mean that the summoning charm - or magic itself - is evil? Of course not. Hermione even firsthand experienced what the Cruciatus and Imperious Curse felt - and trained how to be used to it. Her training was harsh, dangerous, and extremely traumatic. But it was necessary.

Today was her last day, and the Occlumency test was the last test she had to do. Suddenly, Hermione dreaded reverting back to her fourteen-year-old self, heading home from Hogwarts. Her life had changed. She was a ready warrior now. Jean seemed to notice her agitation and smiled rather softly.

"I'll miss you, mini me. Now don't get cold feet now. This is it. Just remember my words. Okay Hermione?"

"Yes, Jean." she replied, then tackled her mentor into a hug. Holding her tight, she whispered, "I promise I'll try to make our, and your, future better."

"You will." Jean replied, before letting go. The door had appeared at the far end of a wall.

It opened, and Hermione walked towards it.

* * *

The first thing Hermione Granger did in France was to search for Loux la Faerie.

Summer before fourth year, just after her training with Jean for physically four years, logically one day, her family decided to go to France this year. Helen and Richard Granger, Hermione's parents, chose that certain destination for her half-summer with them, before Hermione gets whisked by the Weasleys for the Quidditch World Cup. Unknown to them, though, sightseeing and relaxing wasn't the only thing their daughter had in mind.

No, of course not. Jean had sent her to this place for a mission.

"Honey, are you really sure it's around here?" Richard Granger doubtfully asked Hermione. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, the map says that the cafe is around.. oh." she ended with an oh, her jaw dropping. For indeed, they were looking for a cafe, but they were looking for the wrong sort. The Grangers thought that the cafe they're looking for is simply a cafe. But as they turned around, they immediately got a majestic view of Loux la Faerie.

It was no means a simple cafe. It looked more like an elegant restaurant that seems to loudly scream expensive.  
With her parents' jaws dropped, Hermione chose to grab their hands in order to snap them out of their reverie. Together, they made their way inside, and was quickly greeted by a pretty and elegant waitress.

"Excuse me, table for how many? **[1]**" the waitress asked in French. Luckily, they knew how to speak French, so Richard answered back.

"Table for three, please."

The waitress nodded and guided them to a table. Handing them menus, the french waited for them to take their orders. Hermione thought this was a perfect chance to speak to the waitress.

"Madam, what happened to the fairy lights?" she asked in English, surprising them all. The waitress eyed her curiously before smiling softly and replying,

"I'm afraid the Piper hid them from the Queen, mademoiselle." the waitress replied in perfect English, with a hint of French in it.

Hermione smiled knowingly, before cocking her head to the side."Such a shame, that is. Many would like to see it."

"Then if you would not mind, perhaps I could show you?"

Helen and Richard Granger wore identical confused looks on their faces as Hermione got up. "What's going on?" Helen asked dubiously.

"I'm going back, mum, dad. Wait for me, kay?" she said, then turned to the french waitress who was patiently waiting for her.

"If you may please follow me?" she asked politely, and walked up the grand staircase situated at the centre of the cafe. Ignoring curious looks sent her way, Hermione followed the lady and mentally thanked Merlin that what Jean said had worked.

Asking a waitress in Loux la Faerie the question, "what happened to the fairy lights?" was actually a code question. Loux la Faerie isn't only a normal cafe - in fact, it is far from normal. Many dismissed the name of it as whimsical, but few people know that it was far from whimsical - it was realistic. Faerie. Yes, it was a cafe for faerie, or fairies. The waitress are actually fairies, and asking them the code question would have them answering that the piper hid it from the queen. However, Hermione knew, from Jean, that if one express a desire to "see the fairy lights", they would be directed to a discreet section of the cafe. But it wasn't the fairy lights that would be shown.

It would grant the audience of the fairy queen, Titania Aine, herself.

It made her terribly, terribly nervous. Inside, of course. Outside, she slipped into her poker-face, her mask expressionless. She was guarded.  
Before she knew it, she was ushered inside a room where only curtains seemed to be the division and protection. And before Hermione could blink, she was seated in front of the fairy queen.

And she was floored.

For the fairy queen was very much unlike what she had expected.

Titania Aine was... is... looking very much like a child.

She was the epitome of innocence. Soft, blond curls framed her heart-shaped, angel-like face. Her stature seemed poise yet careful, and she looks very fragile. Piercing blue eyes that could rival her Headmaster's own twinkle stared curiously at her, quirky lips curled into a half smile. Dimples showed, and her face seemed.. radiant.

It was undoubtedly stunning that the fairy queen posed as a child.

"Hello," Titania Aine greeted pleasantly, "Milk or Tea? Have a seat, Hermione Jean Granger."

Dumbfounded, she sat down at the seat offered before her. "Thank you, but no thanks, ma'am."

Titania Aine chuckled merrily, "No need to call me ma'am. Just Aine will do - Merlin knows how boring it is not to talk with a human for years."

Nodding, she said. "Okay, M- Aine."

Aine sipped her tea. "So, is there anything I can do for you? It had been half a century since someone cracked the code and knew what to say, hm."

Hermione figured the part about "crack the code" was the key phrases. "I'm here to speak about a.. trade of sorts."

"What kind of trade?"

"I.. know what happened with Riddle."

Aine's face immediately hardened, and it was very unbecoming for such a pretty, young face. "Oh yes.. Tom Riddle," she slowly said, "or, as we fairies dub him... the Piper."

"Because of the legend?"

"Oh no, Tom the Piper was real. Well, once upon a time he was. But like.. Riddle, he took something from us. Except that what Riddle stole was much more important."

"The Fairy Lights? From what I know.. it's that he stole, yes?" From what Jean had told her, it was the fairy lights that was stolen.. but Hermione didn't know how Voldemort could exactly steal fairy lights.

"Yes. The priceless jewelry that we fairies very much treasured."

Oh, so it was a priceless heirloom. She should have known that Lord Voldemort's.. thing for treasures would always surface.

"I see."

"Yes. Our kind have steered away from humans since his visit, only granting entrance to those worthy." Which means me, or rather, Jean. She nodded and smiled.

"What is this trade that you speak of?" Aine suddenly asked curiously. Hermione sat up straight, instantly.

"Is there anything you want, milady?"

Aine scowled. "I would very much like for us fairies to be in possession of the Fairy Lights again, but we have felt the shift.. "

"It's tainted with dark magic, now, isn't it?" Hermione asked softly. Aine peered at her.

"You seem very knowledgeable for someone your age. I only hope you won't be.. swayed, just like the Piper."

"Of course not."

"Good. Now.. the thing we want? Would you.." she seemed hesitant, "if it is within your reach.. well, it is within your reach."

Intrigued, Hermione couldn't help but further ask. "What is it?"

Aine seemed wary of giving information, so instead she asked. "What will we give in return if you do accomplish this?"

Without batting an eyelid, Hermione replied. "Fairy knowledge."

Aine was shocked for a moment, then she chuckled merrily. "I should have known you would be the kind of girl to ask for that. I presume that you are talking about the faerie's art of healing?"

"Yes, of course. Although there are spells that are most certainly useful and powerful in healing, your kind of healing is much more superior than ours. There are no documented faerie spells in our world, only that one mortal managed to get a.. tiny bit of knowledge about healing, and even then she was powerful."

"I take it that you're talking about Morgan le Fay?"

"Indeed, Aine."

Aine sighed and smiled wistfully. "Oh, such a clever girl, Morgana is. She used to be our kind's.. ambassador or heir of some sorts. The Faerie's Choice, as we used to call her. That's why she's called Morgan Le Fay."

"Faerie's Choice? I've heard about it, although they say it was supposed to be a legend.."

The Fairy Queen shook her head. "No, it is when we fairies choose a mortal human worthy of our trust."

"I.. okay." Hermione said, speaking slowly. "What of the trade, Aine? Do you agree?"

She was examined by Aine's piercing blue eyes. She briefly wondered if she was using Legilimency on her, so she put up her barriers. However, it was of no use, since Aine was not probing around her mind, she belatedly realized.

"Do you promise not to tell another soul, Hermione Granger, about the knowledge you seek?" Aine started, cutting her off her musings.

Startled, she nearly fell. Smiling sheepishly, she replied. "I had intended to teach it to a fellow.. friend that is much more adept at healing than I."

"Her name?"

"Luna Cassiopeia Lovegood."

Much to her surprise, though, Aine beamed. "Ah, little Luna, eh?" she seemed pensive. "Very well, very well, there is none other than her fit to learn our knowledge. I accept."

"You know Luna?"

"We know every witch and wizard."

"And you accept.. What is this that you want, milady?"

Aine sighed. "Lost in the Forbidden Forest is the ring of Morgana. She had guarded it very well, with wards and enchantments, and.. we faeries are never been sure. That ring," she stated seriously, "is ours by nature. We want it back, as its power and value is bigger than the Fairy Lights."

"And you.. you are asking this in return?"

"Yes, although not really. You would receive help from our kind.. I shall relocate to our own home in the Forest to provide guidance to you, Hermione Granger."

"Then I accept."

"Would you be willing to take an Unbreakable Vow?"

Hermione pondered for a minute, weighing her chances.

"I would."

* * *

_Diagon Alley_

Before going to the Weasley's for the Quidditch World Cup, Richard and Helen Granger dropped Hermione in front of the Leakey Cauldron for her school supplies. After a tearful goodbye, Hermione bade them off. Entering the dark pub, she was immediately greeted by a quiet hubbub of the witches and wizards there.

"Hello there, Tom," she greeted the bartender brightly as she passed him. Tom cracked a grin.

"Have a nice day, Ms Granger."

Hermione made her way to the entrance to the Diagon Alley and tapped the bricks correspondingly. Diagon Alley soon came into sight.  
She made her way towards Gringotts, cautiously guarding her side-body bag. Jean had her put an Undetectable Extension Charm and a Silencing Charm in it - it was, actually, filled with gold Galleons to be deposited at he little vault at Gringotts that her parents opened for her. It was also laden with some of the Fairy Queen's gifts and tokens for her. Upon reaching Gringotts, she made her way towards the counter.

"Excuse me, I would like to transfer my vault into one of your bigger vaults." she stated at the working goblin, who stopped and looked at her.

"Name?" The goblin grunted at her, but she wasn't afraid.

"Hermione Jean Granger. Vault 913."

"You wish to extend you vault?" he asked her sharply.

"I wish to transfer into another vault." she corrected.

"Key?"

"Here." Hermione held up her key and handed it to the goblin.

"Very well. You vault shall no longer be Vault 913, but will be 673. A fee of thirty two galleons is needed for the transfer to be made."

Hermione took thirty two galleons from her side bag and placed it upon his desk. The goblin, whose name she still did not know, handed her a new key. "I wish to deposit money and valuables on my newly acquired vault, too." she spoke up.

"How much, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, wouldn't it be better if I myself deposit it?" she asked, and the goblin nodded at her.

"Harsharp!" Another goblin, Harsharp, stepped up. Hermione was led towards a cart and the ride started.

Hermione was enjoying the ride, as it was just like a Muggle roller coaster. Left, left, right, down, middle fork, right, and soon she lost track of the direction they went. Her new Vault seemed to be much more deeper than her previous one. Then suddenly, the car halted

.  
"Vault six-hundred and seventy-three." The goblin stated and she handed him the key. Harsharp inserted the key and the doors of her vault opened. When Hermione peered inside, she saw that her gold had been transported inside. It was, however, a small sum of gold. She turned towards Harsharp.

"Would you kindly help me in depositing my gold, sir?" she asked him kindly, and the goblin nodded. Snapping his fingers, all the gold and jewelry from her bag was transferred into her vault. She was amazed at the sheer amount of the money Jean had given her. The trinkets and treasures the faeries had given her were neatly stacked into the racks. Hermione was dumbstruck.

"Err, uhm.. thanks. I'll just get some money.. You may wait outside. sir Harsharp." she told Harsharp, who walked outside of the vault. Hermione made her way towards the racks and instantly spotted a ring, one that the faeries hadn't given her. It was her signet ring, made of white gold. In the middle of it was a Hermione rose. However, it wasn't only a ring. Jean had given it to her because it amplified her magical powers. She took it and slipped it into her middle finger. She also took her money bag and filled it with roughly a hundred galleons, then exited her vault.

Minutes later, she was standing under the bright sunlight, squinting her eyes. Witches and wizards bustled around her, and when one eleven-year-old nearly bumped into her, she started walking. Her first stop was Magical Menagerie for Crookshanks' food. Afterwards she visited the Apothecary to replenish her basic Potions kit and to buy ingredients needed to brew certain Potions she might be needing. Her money bag was considerably lighter because as expected, Potions ingredients aren't that cheap. Hermione took a break at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, ordering a very large cookies-and-cream ice cream cup. She ate it with a gusto, grateful that she wore a black sundress because the day was warm.

After that, she headed towards Madam Malkins to get her school robes fitted. Fifteen minutes later, she was laden with bags, so she asked Madam Malkin to shrink them. Hermione placed it inside her bag, and went off shopping.  
She spotted a second hand thrift shop, and since she still had plenty of time before going to Flourish and Blotts, her last stop, she decided to stop by. A bell tinkled as she opened the doors, and she was greeted by an old lady.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," she said kindly. "How can I be of help?" Hermione noticed her nameplate which read Carina.

"Oh, I would like to just browse, if you don't mind." Hermione replied to her and the old lady, Carina, nodded but didn't left her alone. Glancing at the whole shop, she was surprised to see robes of all sizes and occasions stacked there.

"These are all secondhand, right?" She asked, staring at an enormous vulture handbag that reminded her of an incident last school year.

Carina smiled and replied. "Yes, they are, miss. And what are you looking for..?"

Deciding that she would not be able to get Carina to leave her, she answered. "Oh, dress robes, perhaps?"

Carina seemed delighted. She examined Hermione from head to toe and walked around her. "Hm, petite figure, but a few charms can arrange that.. You have a winter complexion, Miss.." she trailed off, not knowing Hermione's name.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione supplied.

"Miss Granger. Yes.. yes, will you wait for a few minutes? You can sit there," she gestured at one of the comfortable looking chairs Hermione had spied earlier. Hermione nodded and complied while the other witch disappeared into the back room. A minute or two later, Carina appeared, levitating about a dozen dress robes. Hermione inwardly cringed and she remembered why she hated shopping.

"Choose, miss Granger."

Hermione was surrounded by dress robes. She had been wrong in thinking it was a dozen dress robes - it had been two and a half dozen dress robes. Dizzily, she tried robe after robe but it didn't quite suit her taste. Some were too much revealing, some too much bulky. Carina wasn't put off, instead she seemed to be much excited.

"Tricky, eh? Oh, wait.. I wonder. Wait a minute, miss Granger." Carina spoke and after twenty seconds, she handed Hermione a dress robe in periwinkle blue. Hermione hesitantly slipped it on. She looked at herself in the mirror and was stunned by how she looked.

"Brilliant! Perfect! It suits you, Ms Granger." Carina said to her, and Hermione privately agreed. She took it off and dressed up in her sundress again.

"How much for it, Ms Carina?" she asked.

"Eight Galleons, dear."

"Eight Galleons only? But.. but that seemed to be worth around twenty-five!" Hermione said.

"No, it's only for eight Galleons. Will you be taking it?" Carina replied.

"Yes, I'll be taking it." Carina placed it inside a paper bag and gave it to Hermione. Hermione paid her ten galleons and with a wink, she said, "Keep the change, miss Carina."

Hermione left the shop while the old witch smiled at her gratefully.

Feeling slightly excited at her new and pretty dress robes, she made her way towards Flourish and Blotts. She handed the shopkeeper her list of Hogwarts books and decided to peruse the whole bookstore for interesting reads. After an hour, she exited the bookstore. As she was about to hail the Knight Bus, she suddenly remembered that she hadn't yet bought new quills, ink and scrolls. Painstakingly, as she was carrying her books, she made her way towards the Scrivenshaft's Quills.

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?" A feminine voice behind her asked, and Hermione whirled around saw Susan Bones, Hufflepuff. Behind Susan was a middle-aged witch with a curious look on her face.

"Oh, hi, Susan." she greeted and smiled at Susan Bones. Susan smiled back.

"Fancy seeing you here, eh?" Susan said to her. "This is my aunt, Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Auntie Amelia, this is Hermione Granger, the best in our year." Hermione blushed at Susan's praise before extending a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Madam Bones." Hermione said, inwardly sad. Jean had informed her that Amelia Bones was one of them that Voldemort would personally kill. She gave a smile towards them.

"Likewise, Miss Granger." Amelia Bones seemed likeable enough. "Would you like me to charm your school stuff?"

"Yes please," she replied, and Amelia charmed her books featherlight and shrank them. She then put it inside her bag. "Thank you, ma'am."

"So, how come you're shopping alone?" Susan asked her.

"My parents dropped me off. I'm supposed to go afterwards to the Weasley."

"Oh, I heard that they're going to the Quidditch World Cup. Are you coming with them?"

"Yes, Ginny Weasley invited us to come. Harry and me, that is."

"Oh, I see. Suppose we'll be seeing you there, too?"

"Yes, indeed." Hermione replied. Susan gave another smile. Hermione suddenly realized that if she want to make what Jean had told her to happen, she had to do something and start it now. An idea struck in her head.

"Are you free for at least some afternoon tea, Susan? As well as Madam Bones, of course." She asked and mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that they are. Jean had told her about Susan Bones - she was a very, very helpful companion and friend. They worked like a team, in the future, actually. Susan was good at strategising ; almost as good as Jean is. Except, though, she's not as levelheaded as Jean of the future is; she occasionally panics. Luna was the healer, Ginny was the front line, Susan would be the back up and she would be the all-around, Jean had informed her so.

"Free? Oh no, I'm very sorry dear, but Suse and I are on a tight schedule." Amelia answered. Hermione was slightly crestfallen, and it must have showed because Amelia spoke up again.

"But if you want, we can all meet in the Three Broomsticks for a lunch in one of the Hogsmeade Weekends. Right, Susan? You may also invite some of your friends."

"Of course, Auntie."

"That would be lovely, madam Bones, Susan." Hermione replied. "Err, I'll be heading to Scrivenshaft's now. It was nice seeing you Susan, and meeting you, Madam Bones." She inclined her head slightly towards them.

"Cheerio, Hermione!"

"See you at Hogsmeade, miss Granger."

With that, Susan and Amelia Bones both turned away and left Hermione in the cobbled pavement. Hermione, in turn, walked towards Scrivenshaft's Quills and purchased new quills, scrolls and ink.

With the sun nearly setting, Hermione hailed the Knight Bus.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards, my name is Stan Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for this evening.." a gangly, pimple-ridden faced man in early twenties greeted her.

"The Burrow, please."

"Eight Sickles, ma'am."

Hermione handed him a galleon. "Keep the change, Mr Shunpike."

Stan Shunpike gave her a lopsided grin as she boarded the bus and sat into one of the chairs. "Thank you, ma'am."

The bus sped off with a bang.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : **There, Chapter Two. I feel.. kind of good for accomplishing it xD


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER : **Not mine, Harry Potter is JK Rowling's. ;) This is merely a fanfiction.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : **Okay, really really thanks for all those that reviewed. Even though it's only a few, it made wonders for me :D Just to clear things in my story, I'll write this down.

- Not all the events in the Goblet of Fire will happen. I shall edit them. Again, **not all the events on the books will happen** because for me, future Hermione's arrival already distorted it. Please bear with me :) Oh, some of the lines are taken from the book but I edited those and made it seem like it's in Hermione's point of view, to fit my fanfiction.

- Also, just because Hermione knows some facts from the future doesn't mean she knows _all_ of what happens in the future. Clear? :)

I also wish to express my deepest gratitude (again) for those who followed, favorited, and reviewed. REALLY. xD

So, here's chapter three! :D

* * *

"Prime seats! Top Box, straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

It was the Quidditch World Cup ; the day the Weasleys expected and Hermione dreaded. Hours later, a rally of Death Eaters would happen.. Muggle Baiting.. the Dark Mark..

Hermione mentally shook herself. No, no. She would protect Harry this day. And Winky.

Jean told her that the rebirth of the Dark Lord will be inevitable. No matter what she do, he will return. Her mission was to save lives - Cedric Diggory at the moment. She had earlier formally met the famous Hufflepuff - she is dead set on making him live. Sirius is next - he must live to be there for Harry. She will battle Bellatrix herself if worse comes to worst.

"Hermione? Move on, will you?" A voice snapped her from her musings. Ginny. Hermione smiled, although it felt a little strained.

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Their party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Hermione, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys and Harry looked down upon a scene the likes of which she could never have imagined. It was a good thing she had learned how to control her fear of heights during her stay in the Room of Requirement; else she would have hyperventilated right there and then.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Hermione's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Hermione saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer ... Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain! ... Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade...

Hermione felt euphoric at the moment - at ease. Nothing, of course, would go wrong. Until later. She had to relax first. She sat between Harry and Ron and fiddled with the Omnioculars Harry had bought her. He shouldn't have bothered, she thought ruefully. However, the deed was just so Harry it makes her smile.

"Dobby?" she heard Harry say. If her memories were accurate, Jean had told her that there would be a house-elf right now.. Except, of course, it would not be Dobby.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" A high-pitched voice sounded just as Hermione spun around to see it. She felt Ron shift beside her, too. They had not met Dobby, but they've heard a lot of things from Harry about the house-elf.

Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" s he said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck. Hermione still felt sympathy for House-Elves but she abided Jean's words.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. Ron looked curious, but Hermione herself already know the answer. "What's wrong with him?" Harry further inquired.

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir, " said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.  
Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again. A rush of sympathy flowed through Hermione once more.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

Hermione stiffened just as she heard Ron mutter "So that's a house-elf? Weird things, aren't they?" to Harry. Winky appeared so distraught.. And then it clicked.

"Harry! Where's your wand?" She asked while casting a nervous look at the seats around Winky. She remembered what Jean had told her - Barty Crouch Jr. would steal Harry's wand. Her own wand was strapped at her holster; one flick of her wrist and her wand would be at her palm. The wand holster was, of course, disillusioned and invisible.

"Mhmm? What, Hermione? Wand?" Harry checked his pockets and to Hermione's relief, it was still there.

"You nearly lost it, Harry! It was just poking from your pocket - what if it slipped or someone took it?" she scolded him. Harry looked sheepish.

Ron, on the other had, didn't seem to hear them and was just testing his Omnioculars. Hermione then sighed and did the same as him.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again ... and again ... and again. . ."

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet-covered, tasseled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,"' she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley, who overheard her. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

Ahh, that must be what Jean had told her. Veelas and leprechauns. She just continued to play with the Omnioculars and mentally wondered how it worked. Perhaps a few Arithmancy equations, since it could calculate the events in near future? Or some charms and runes?

Hermione only noticed that Mr Weasley had been shaking hands with lots of people when the Minister of Magic himself announced the Malfoys. The three of them spun around quickly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby the house- elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and a woman Hermione knew was Narcissa Malfoy. Draco's mother.

Harry and Draco Malfoy had been enemies ever since their very first journey to Hogwarts, which unsurprisingly extends towards Hermione and Ron. A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father. His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other and Hermione vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Judging from the look of Harry, he too remembered the incident at Diagon Alley. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Hermione wanted to throttle Lucius Malfoy at that time, knowing what a two-faced bastard he is. Here he is, shaking hands with the people at ministry while later, he would rally with unknown colleagues as Death Eaters. An idea formed inside her head - surely.. it was safe? It would be done wandless.. And the trace only applies to those using wands. Tom Riddle had attested to that when he had used his uncle's wand in killing his father's family.

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How - how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Lucius Malfoy's eyes suddenly turned towards her. Hermione held his gaze. She could see contempt and disgust in his eyes, obviously in concern of the 'inferiority' of her blood but she was determined, so she didn't dare back down. With a deep but silent breath, she felt around her magic and thought forcefully,

_Legilimens._

Hermione caught a last look of hatred before she delved into his mind. She encountered a barrier - not surprising-, but Jean's was much more stronger and she was used to it. So, she effortlessly slipped past through it. No, she didn't break it down because Mr Malfoy would immediately know when someone's probing in his mind. Hermione slipped inside his mind and glimpsed of his plans for later.

Ah. Nott. Avery. Mulciber. Crabbe, Goyle, Rookwood. Dolohov, too. Those were the names of Death Eaters planning for the coup later.

She silently withdrew from his mind and once she was done, she looked at Mr Malfoy. He didn't even suspect that someone had performed legilimency on him! Jean would be proud.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered to them once the Malfoys passed them. They turned towards the field again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam.  
"Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen. . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce. . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"  
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel -?" She heard Harry ask Mr Weasley, but was cut off.

About a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Hermione had learned about Veelas - one the most beautiful or charming women, or creatures created. Hermione stifled a laugh at the look of amazement and awe at Harry, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, bar her and Ginny.

The veela started to dance as the music began to play. Curiously, Ron started bending into the railing as though he was about to dive. On the other hand, Harry stood up and was about to.. jump down?

"Harry, what are you doing?" she screeched as Harry had his leg up.

Thankfully, the music stopped. The crowd shouted and complained - they obviously didn't want the veela to go. Ginny was laughing while Hermione was trying to stifle a giggle. By the outraged looks on Harry and Ron's faces, she burst out giggling.

"You'll be wanting that," Mr Weasley said, reaching over and taking the hat Ron was shredding to pieces, "once Ireland has their say."

"Huh?" Ron absentmindedly said while the veela down the pitch had now lined up. Hermione fought to keep her face serious.

She tutted loudly, then reached up and pulled Harry down his seat. "Honestly!"

"And now," Ludo Bagman's magnified voice roared, "kindly put your wands in the air. . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it - "Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Hermione saw that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamps, most probably filled with gold. Leprechauns, she thought and cheered madly.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr Weasley, voicing what Hermione had initially thought. The tumultuous noise of the crowd continued, seeing as many were still rummaging below their seats for gold coins.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

She was a bit bemused at the fact that Ron still owes Harry ten years worth of Christmas Presents-less, as most wizards and witches know that leprechaun gold disappear for an hour or so. But then again, knowing Ron, he probably didn't bother learning that fact and apparently, Harry didn't, too. Hermione decided not to enlighten them on the fact, so she returned her attention to the pitch once more.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!" roared Bagman. Hermione cheered with the rest of the crowd.

"I give you - Dimitrov! Ivanova! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

Ludo Bagman's last word, Krum, apparently has a large effect on the crowd. The shouts and cheers were deafening. The Bulgarian National Team had appeared, and watching with the Omnioculars, Hermione saw Viktor Krum. She flushed red at remembering that Viktor Krum was going - was supposed - to ask her for the Yule Ball. Her, for Merlin's sake!

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" Bagman's voiced resounded throughout the field once more. "Presenting - Conolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept on the field; Hermione could hardly train her eyes on them for one moment, she could spot them, the next moment, they were gone and nowhere near the place they've been before.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!" said Bagman. "Witches and Wizards, the moment we've all been waiting for.." Hedrew out his wand and sent out green sparks.

"Let the match begin!"

* * *

"Hermione, wake up! We've got to go! _Hermione!"_

Instantly, Hermione jumped to her feet and nearly collided with George's forehead. Worry was written in his face. Hermione glimpsed Fred waking up a still dazed Ginny. Dimly, Hermione registered that something was wrong. She could hear screams and the sound of people running. Then, her eyes widened in realization.

_Blast! The Death Eater raid - how stupid could I get?_

Hermione shook herself awake and located her wand (which was still in the holster, thank Merlin), grabbed a jacket and ran together with Ginny outside, Fred and George on their heels. _Bloody hell, _she cursed herself. She had been lying awake after Ireland had won, chatting with Ginny, waiting with cold blood for the danger they would be facing. She remembered talking about.. about.. was it egg pies or crystal candies? She could not remember. All she knew was that she _bloody _fell asleep.

_Stupid, stupid!_

_No, no use chastising yourself, Hermione. Make sure everyone is safe for now._

She clutched Ginny's hand tightly with her other hand, one hand ready to flick her wrist in case they encounter unfortunate circumstances. When they reached Harry and the others, Mr Weasley immediately left them after shouting something alone the lines of 'helping the ministry' and 'stick together'. Grimly, Hermione followed Fred, George and Ginny along with Harry and Ron, although that proved quite a bit of task. People pushed and pulled, only by grabbing Harry's hand was she able to stick with him. It was quite a distraction when screaming and panicking people were pushing you, egging you to move or shoving you out of the way - soon, she could no longer spot the Weasleys. She was left with Harry, alone.

"I don't believe it. We've lost them!" Hermione said, unbelieving. Harry looked quite grim, the people were almost thinning out.

"Hermione, we've got to move," Harry urged to which Hermione concurred. Together, they set out and started half-walking, half-jogging, past the empty tents and abandoned bonfires.

But then, she saw _them._

She froze. Less than goodness knows how many miles away from them were them- Death Eaters. Four silhouettes flickered above them, which made Hermione want to wretch. Muggles. Beside her, Harry was looking pale. The Death Eaters continued marching - the jeering and taunting, the drunken yells and cruel laughter went on. Hermione seethed as more figures joined them. Obviously, they have invited a lot others as well, not just the, ah.. main ones. Hermione felt sick. It was like watching a puppet show, though in this case, the masked people on the ground were the puppeteers and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wand into the air.

Realizing the situation they were in, as they were nearly in plain sight of the Death Eaters, Hermione hissed at Harry. "Hurry, hide!"

Quickly, she ducked behind a tent, Harry instantly following her. Her eyes darted to and fro, searching for some way to be not noticed from getting out of there. No such luck.

She pressed her finger in her lips, warning her best friend not to speak. He got the message and stayed quiet as a mouse, thankfully. Peeking carefully, Hermione was rather relieved when she noticed that Ministry wizards seem to be trying to subdue the rallying people. It was a good thing that there are adults now, but it was glaringly obvious that they were outnumbered and out-powered.

"We've got to go," Harry said, glancing edgily at Hermione. Her heart turned fond at her best friend - it was obvious that he really care about her.

"We've got nowhere to run," replied Hermione.

Away from them, shouts of spells and curses were overheard. The Aurors were having problems - most of them were newly graduates and most of the rallying, hooded figures were outstanding in their spellwork, seeing as they were trained for years. A flurry of different colored curses sailed throughout the solemn night, thankfully missing the four people suspended in the air. Hermione supposed that some of the Ministry personnel are protecting Mr Roberts and his family from being struck. The both of them turned wary, however, when the fight seemed to approach them. Soon, a spell nearly hit their hiding place, just as an idea struck Hermione.

"Oh, Harry! Why didn't I - have you got your cloak with you?" she asked Harry. To her dismay, Harry's answer was negative.

_What are we going to do? _she asked herself, glancing panicky at the fight. _At this rate, the ruckus will reach us.. If only we could do magic outside school!_

She cursed the Ministry for banning underage magic.

"Hermione, no choice. We have to run towards the forest or else.." said Harry. Hermione knew he was right, but the major problem was getting across the field without being noticed. The forest was located at the other side.

"You're right, Harry. On the count of three." Hermione stated, nodding. Harry nodded back at her.

"One," she started.

"Two," counted Harry.

"Three." They both whispered and at the same time, they both ran.

Dashing madly across the field and ducking from a stray hex, Hermione managed to outrun Harry to the forest. She turned to look at Harry, who was only four steps after her, when she heard it.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Horrified, she could only watch as a green light from an unknown Death Eater hit one of the unsuspecting aurors. A strangled "No!" came from her mouth, she realized a moment too late. Harry, who had not seen the spell being cast and struck, continued running and grab Hermione from her frozen state. Some of the Death Eaters whipped their heads towards their directions. Her heart pounded loudly.

"Hermione! Go!" Harry urged her, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the woods. As if her body was made of lead, she automatically started running despite her inner protests.

As they were running, Hermione couldn't shake the mental picture of the unnamed Ministry wizard who just... died. It suddenly dawned onto her that she had seen someone died - she had seen someone being _killed_. A choked sob was on her throat as unwilling tears gathered on her eyes. Despite that, she continued running with Harry until they were in a safe distance.

"That was hard," Harry panted, his breaths loud. Hermione was distraught, but she wasn't that tired. Training with Jean was worse than running from that distance.

"Hermione? Are you okay? You're not hurt, aren't you?" he asked, worry laced in his words. Hermione shook her head, feeling numb all over. _Someone just died._

"D-did you hear the spell, Harry?" she whispered in a strangled voice. "_Avada Kedavra. _Harry-oh, Harry, it was the K-killing curse."

Harry's face went pale. For uncounted seconds, neither said a word. Harry was shocked. Hermione was still reeling over the fact that she had seen someone die.

_Someone died. It wasn't supposed to happen._

_It wasn't supposed to happen! Jean told me.. nobody was supposed to die._

She belatedly realized that someone had caught up to them.

"Harry? Hermione?" a voice asked. Startled, both Harry and her turned and saw Ron, relief sprawled all over his face.

"There you are!" he further continued. "What's wrong with you two?"

Nobody answered. Hermione was still in a daze at what she had seen. Glancing subtly at Harry, she noticed that he was still quiet and subdued. _I wonder who's taking it worse, _she thought ruefully, _me or Harry?_ Harry had lost his parents, his family to that curse. He was the sole person to survive that curse. But then again, Harry didn't saw the green light struck the auror. _She _saw it. She was the one who had seen someone.. die.

"C'mon," Harry muttered. "We'll explain later."

Silently, they trudged up in the forest, careful not to make so much noise. The hubbub caused by the crowd of Death Eaters and Ministry wizards lessened. Then, suddenly, they heard Ron yell with pain.

"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that she felt Harry walk into her. With a flick of her wrist, her vinewood wand lay reassuringly on her palm. "Ron, where are you? _Oh! This is stupid - _lumos!"

Cursing herself silently for not noticing the one single fact that _they could use magic freely_, she illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

_Stupid, Hermione, you're plain stupid. _Of course it was okay for them to use magic - many witches and wizards have gathered here, as such, it would be a hard job finding who used underage magic. The Trace only works on Muggleborns and those wizards in the muggle community - the reason why Harry had been sent a warning when Dobby used a hovering charm last second year. The Ministry of Magic could not pinpoint the location of the spell user, therefore automatically placing the blame on the sole magical person in the area. Here, they could use magic because the magic adults use cover up their magical residue. It was really stupid of her not to realize it sooner.

"Tripped over a tree root," Ron said angrily, getting to his feet again. Hermione tutted - how clumsy could Ron be?

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them.

Harry and Ron turned sharply. Hermione, meanwhile, was already facing the stranger, her wand raised and in a stance. She relaxed upon seeing who it was but still held her wand in place.

Draco Malfoy was standing alone, leaning against the tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene through a gap in the trees.

Ron told Malfoy to do something Hermione knew he wouldn't have dared say in front of Mrs Weasley.

"Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his grey eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better hurry along now? Wouldn't want her spotted, would you?"

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.

"I hardly think I'm worth noticing, Malfoy," Hermione said icily. "After all, they're engaged at the moment with the Ministry. Sooner or later they would be caught. They wouldn't bother with some schoolgirl like me."

"Granger, they're after Muggles," Malfoy replied almost exasperatingly. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled beside her.

"Have it your own way, Potter," stated Malfoy, smirking maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that "Mudblood" was a very offensive term for witches and wizards of Muggle parentage. Hermione, however, wasn't fazed.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where are your parents, Malfoy?" said Harry. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smirking.

"Well... if they are, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Oh, please," said Hermione snidely. "Don't be shy now, _Draco, _you can tell us. Your daddy along there with - hm, let's see." She started counting her fingers to infuriate him. "Nott.. Avery. Mulciber, I suppose. Oh, Crabbe and Goyle, seniors, of course. Then there's.. Rookwood. Dolohov, I think." Hermione relished the stunned look on Malfoy's face. "They are the Death Eaters that were Imperiused, yes? Oh, right, at least they _claimed_ to be Imperiused."

Malfoy was speechless.

"Well, not that it matters. Come on, Harry, Ron," she smirked triumphantly at Malfoy.

"Keep that big bushy head of yours down, Granger," sneered Malfoy, although Hermione could see a look of trepidation in his eyes.

"Keep your snotty nose out of our business, Malfoy," Hermione shot back.

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned towards the path again. Instantly, Hermione sobered up after their encounter with Malfoy. She had momentarily forgotten about the death of the auror.

"I'll bet you anything his father is one of the masked lot!" Ron said hotly.

"What are Death Eaters, Hermione?" muttered Harry at her.

"Followers of Voldemort," she replied and continued walking. Ron gasped loudly while Harry looked at her, shocked.

"You said his name! D-don't say his name, Hermione!" hissed Ron.

"Oh, shush Ron, have some sense. It's not as if _he's_ going to pop up any minute now, you know." _Oh, definitely not Voldemort, but perhaps his followers? _Harry, meanwhile, beamed at her._  
_

"Nice to see you're not afraid to say his name, Hermione," he said. Hermione offered him a tiny smile.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," she whispered as they continued down the path.

For minutes, none of them said a word as they passed people.

"Fred and George couldn't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling out his wand and lighting it. Harry followed suit and lit up his own wand. Together, the three of them, wands illuminated, made their way through the path.

A rustling noise nearby made Harry and Ron jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back. With a jolt, Hermione realized that Winky was being held back by Barty Crouch Jr.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

"Winky!" Hermione shouted. "Disapparate now, you're in danger!" She desperately hoped that Winky will disapparate and leave with Barty Crouch Jr.

But she didn't. She merely disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly, or disapparate?"

"Bet she didn't ask a permission to hide," said Harry. Hermione scrunched up her nose. If only they knew.

About ten minutes of walking, Ron started complaining.

"Ronald! Be glad we're not the ones -"

Hermione broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder, wand in hand. Harry and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering towards their clearing. Hermione tensed, a volley of curses running through her mind in case it was an attacker. They waited, listening to the sounds of uneven steps behind the dark trees. The footsteps came into a sudden halt.

Hermione stepped forward cautiously. "Who's there?"

There was silence. Hermione walked and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but she could sense somebody standing beyond her range of vision, so she whispered. "Lumos Maxima!"

A ball of bright light emerged from the tip of her wand. She saw a silhouette of a man, average height, not far from them.

And then, without warning, the silence was broken by a voice unlike she had heard; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell. No, definitely a spell.

"_MORSMORDE!"_

* * *

**AUTHORS' NOTE: **Yeah, finally. I typed it first and then when I saved it, bam! Internet's gone. Ehh, thanks for reading. Please feel free to review :) I appreciate it. Cheerio!


	4. Chapter 4

"Morsmordre!"

Hermione felt numb all over.

Something vast, green and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Hermione's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew over the treetops and all over the night sky.

"What the -?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

Her blood froze. No way, no way.

It was a colossal skull, comprised on what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As she watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

_The Dark Mark._

Suddenly, the wood around them erupted with screams. The Dark Mark was now visible to the entire campsite, it had risen high enough to illuminate the woods like some grisly neon sign.

Hermione was in motion. Her wand, which was already in her hand, was already performing a wand movement.

"Homenum Revelio," she stated clearly.

"Hermione, what are you doing? Let's go," moaned Ron.

"What's that?" came the confused question of a bewildered Harry. She ignored the both of them.

The spell hit a target - Barty Crouch Jr.

"Stupe-"

Before she could completely her spell, however, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of about twenty or more wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Hermione whirled around, and in a split second, she realized that all of them had wands; wands that are trained right in front of herself, Harry and Ron.

Without pausing to think, she yelled, "DOWN!"

At the same time, Harry had seized Ron and shouted, "DUCK!"

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty different yet simultaneous voices - there was a blinding series of flashes. Raising her head a fraction of an inch she saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness-

"Stop!" shouted a voice she recognized. "STOP! That's my son!"

Hermione raised her head higher. The wizard in front of them had lowered his wand. The telltale fiery red hair was there. It was Mr Weasley, looking utterly terrified.

"Ron - Harry" - his voice sounded shaky - "Hermione - are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr Crouch. He and the other ministry wizards are closing in on them, so Hermione got to her feet. Both Ron and Harry followed suit. Mr Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do any of that," Harry said, gesturing towards the skull. "I don't even know what that is."

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry," whispered Hermione. "You-know-who's sign."

"What?" blurted Harry.

"We didn't do any of that," Ron said to Mr Crouch, rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen gown, whom Hermione recognized as Amelia Bones, "they're kids, they've never have been able to -"

"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" said Mr Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Hermione edgily, pointing at the place where they have heard a voice earlier. "There was someone behind the trees ... they shouted words - an incantation-"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched in his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed on how that Mark is summoned, missy-"

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"I tried Homenum Revelio, by the way," she added. Ron nudged her. Some of the Ministry wizards gawked at her, too.

"How did you do that, Hermione?" asked Mr Weasley.

"I learned it, but that's beside the point. I've searched and there was a man - at least I think it is - over there."

"We're too late," said Amelia Bones, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees. . . . There's a good chance we got them. . ."

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish and hoped against hope that she would find Barty Crouch Jr.

A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - blimey. ."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. She recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.

"That's impossible," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. "What the spell recognized was a tall figure. Winky couldn't have been the one."

"Shh, Hermione," whispered Madam Bones to her.

Mr Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," he said jerkily. "No -"

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching. Hermione knew that he was searching for his son.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf. . . I mean to say..."

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand."

"What?" said Mr. Weasley.

Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barry! What's going on?"

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching. Hermione seethed for she knew that he had covered Barty Crouch Jr. Yet, she couldn't expose him because that would lead to questions raised and possibly worst turn of events. I would have to expose him later, she thought grimly.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why - ?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!"

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. Hermione glared at them all - how dare they have no feelings for such?

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Hermione could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr. Diggory sternly._ She has a name, you dolt. _"Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Hermione wanted to rush to her and calm her.

"As you see, elf," - _her name is Winky_!- "the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr. Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her.

"It wasn't her!" Hermione protested. Mr Diggory and Mr Crouch looked at her. "Winky's got a squeaky voice, and the voice we heard was doing the incantation was much deeper!" She took a breath, looked for Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, didn't it?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice." said Ron.

"Well, if the elf didn't do it," said Mr Diggory, unimpressed. "There's still the possibility that one of you -"

"Amos, that's enough. Do you-" Arthur cut off, but he himself was cut off from Hermione's voice.

"I beg you pardon, Mr Diggory. Are you accusing us, too? Because if you are, feel free to search us. We didn't conjure the Dark Mark, much less we know how. Did you really think that Harry Potter would conjure it? Or Ronald Weasley, son of Ministry wizard Arthur Weasley? Or even me, a simple muggleborn?" said Hermione hotly, eyes flashing dangerously. Amos Diggory unexpectedly took a step back.

"Er - sorry.." mumbled Amos. "Got carried away."

"Anyway, we'll soon see." Amelia said. "There's still a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand has used. Amos?"

Mr Diggory nodded and placed his wand tip to tip with the wand Winky was found with.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Amos.

Hermione took a sharp breath as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr. Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Amos," said Mr. Weasley loudly, "think about it. . . precious few wizards know how to do that spell. . . . Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch.. . not. . . not at all.

"You have now come very close to accusing the four people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr. Crouch. "Harry Potter - his friends and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course - everyone knows -" muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

"As the young lady has mentioned," Mr Crouch gestured towards her. "It was Arthur Weasley's son - and her parentage as a Muggleborn - highly unlikely, yes?"

"Yes, yes of course -"

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She - she might've picked it up anywhere -"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "She might have picked it up anywhere.. . . Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find the wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

"I - I is finding it. . . finding it there, sir. . . ." she whispered, "there . . . in the trees, sir."

"You see, Amos?" said Mr. Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving this wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir. . . no one. ."

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master. . ." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please. . ."

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze. Hermione felt miserable because she could do nothing to help Winky.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

Hermione knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the portkey, if nobody's got any objections." Nobody did.

"Come on, you three," Mr. Weasley said quietly.

But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"Poor Winky," she said soberly. "It's not her fault."

"Of course it isn't," Harry added soothingly. Then, Hermione remembered something.

"Mr Weasley! There was - there was.. in the fight.." her voice dropped to a whisper, the memory repeating in her mind once more. ".. someone.. died."

Mr Weasley gravely nodded at her. "Poor Benjamin Alphonsus. Yes, we recovered his body. But please, let's not discuss this, it is safer to get back to the tent. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so upset about the skull thingy?"

"I'll explain everything later if we get to the portkey," Mr Weasley said tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr Weasley coming towards them, they all surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur - it's not - Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He then turned to the three of them and spoke, his voice still terse.

"The others got to the portkey before you, so I have no choice but to Apparate you one by one, because I cannot handle two side-Along apparitions. Your first time would be unpleasant, nevertheless, it is the surest way." He looked at each of them. "Well - which of you wants to go first?"

"Ladies first," said Harry.

"Err, yeah, Hermione should be first." Ron looked like he wasn't too keen at apparating.

Hermione gulped inaudibly. She wondered what Apparition felt like. Jean described it as unpleasant. Mr Weasley held out his arm and Hermione grabbed on tightly.

"Don't let go," warned Arthur.

She closed her eyes, held her breath-

Everything went black. She felt pressure everywhere, she felt being pressed very hard from all directions. Hermione could not breathe, there were iron bands in her chest. Her eyeballs felt compressed, and her eardrums felt like they were being pushed deeper and deeper in her skull, making her head throb. Her body felt like it was squeezed into a very tight rubber tube and-

She gulped great lungfuls of cold air and opened her watery eyes. Hermione wobbled on her steps, still clutching Mr Weasley's arm. She closed her eyes and dry heaved. It felt terrible.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, the feeling is quite terrible indeed for first timers. Why don't you - Oh, thank Merlin, Molly's spotted us. I'll leave you now, Harry and Ron's still waiting."

And with a large pop, he was gone once more.

Hermione dizzily straightened up. It was then she realized she was no longer at the Quidditch World Cup, but outside the wards of the Burrow. She spotted Mrs Weasley making her way towards her, so she started walking, too.

"Oh dear, oh dear, Hermione, are you alright? Let's get you inside," she bustled.

Hermione, tired and weary, didn't even bother to reply.

* * *

**A/N :** So terribly sorry I wasn't able to update fast. :( Here it is, though. I have no beta, so please excuse my writing. Thanks! :D


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